Filled up with sun
and the waning day,
a pink and
robin’s egg doctrine
of dissociating clouds,
A half moon
like a child’s breath
on a sleepy eye
(another cold morning).
The vacuum
is the passing hours,
and nature abhors
the way desire reaches
for an aftertaste –
One hand open
in the tall grass,
a diffusion gifted
to the gloaming,
The excess, the
comforting ruin,
This drawn thing,
the first
and final
breath.
Jesse Miksic is a graphic designer and writer living in the suburbs of Philadelphia. He spends his life writing poetry, waiting patiently for nightfall, and having adventures with his wonderful wife and two children. Recent placements include Green Ink Poetry, Pink Plastic House, Moist Poetry, and Roi Fainéant Literary Press. His work and musings can be found at @miksimum on Twitter and Instagram, or at www.miksimum.com